


Always With the Waiting

by MorinoAthame



Series: What's Age Got to Do With It? [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Family, Gen, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 14:32:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorinoAthame/pseuds/MorinoAthame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby's first prenatal exam. He's not too happy about this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always With the Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what actually goes on in prenatal check ups, so I'm winging the details.

Bobby glared at Sam as he shifted on the barely padded chair in the doctor’s waiting room. There were a thousand places he’d rather have been than there, waiting to have his first prenatal exam.  The boy was sitting beside him, thumbing through this pregnancy magazine and that parenting one. He seemed perfectly at ease, not finding their surroundings at all uncomfortable. Bobby glared all the harder at him and shifted in his seat again.

He gave a growl. “How damn long is this going to take?” He bit out to the younger man. Why did they end up having to wait so long every time they had to see a doctor? It was a ridiculous.

“The doctor had a delivery,” Sam answered, having stopped on an article that must have really caught his attention. His answer sound distracted.

“Balls,” Bobby said. He had things at home to do, plenty of things. He crossed his arms and glared at the wall across the waiting room. If it was in the same general direction of the receptionist’s desk, the same woman who had **_cooed_** at him thinking it was _cute_ he was having a baby, it was merely a coincidence.

She smiled at him sweetly, talking into the phone. He grunted and looked away. Cheery people freaked him out, a little. No one should _always_ be happy, and if they were, it was fake or something was wrong with them, sometimes something not natural.

“Leave the nice lady alone,” Sam spoke up, nose still in the magazine.

Bobby turned his glare back on the younger hunter. “Boy,” he said, warning him in tone to keep his damn trap shut. It was Sam’s damn fault he was there in the first place.

Sam looked up and gave him a look that was usually reserved only for Dean when he was being unreasonable and an idjit. Bobby met the look straight on with one of his own. He was only vaguely aware that the few others in the room were quiet and shifting away from them.

The receptionist was suddenly there with her sunny smile and chirpy voice. “Mr. Singer, we can take you back now.”

Bobby knew she was just moving them so there wasn’t a scene, it wasn’t her job to fetch the patients, but if it got them that bit closer to getting all this over with, he was fine with that. “Fine.” He stood, towering over her a bit. She was a rather petit woman.

The older man didn’t comment when Sam stood and followed. He was a grown ass man and could do this alone, but it was easier not to argue about it or have to answer Sam’s endless questions once it was all over. He followed the receptionist to the exam room, glowering at the other staff they passed. If there was one thing he was at least grateful for, and it certainly wasn’t being there, it was that he didn’t know these people. The doctor wasn’t in Souix Falls but a town over.

“Here we are, Mr. Singer. The nurse will be in shortly to get your vitals.” She held a gown out to him. “If you could put this on.” She was still smiling.

“What the hell for?” He demanded, looking at it with no intention of actually taking the damn thing.

He heard Sam sigh but ignored him. “It’s convenient for you and the doctor. Everyone is asked to wear one, sir.” Her smile was just a little tight and less jovial, and it was the first time she’d not called him ‘Mr. Singer.’

With a growl, he took it from her, though the urge to see if she’d lose her cool was tempting. “Fine.” He looked at her pointedly, there no way in hell he was stripping until she was gone.

Annoying smile back in place, she left them alone. “Uh… you want me to…” Sam said from beside him, motioning vaguely to the door and sounding a little uncomfortable.

Bobby rolled his eyes and pulled his vest and flannel off. “Just park it. Close your eyes if you’re that big a sissy about it.” He tossed the clothes at Sam then pulled off his t-shirt as well. His boots, belt, and jeans followed, though he was reluctant to be unarmed. He had to be satisfied with Sam being ready to handle anything that might arise. Then, he put on the foolish gown.

“This is stupid,” he complained.

“Bobby, just try to be cooperative.” Sam was busy folding his clothes, which seemed like a complete waste of time to Bobby. “Do as they say and it will all go more smoothly.”

“What all?” Sam knew more about what was going on than he did. The older man got the impression he wasn’t going to like whatever it was they did in these exams, especially when Sam gave him a rather sheepish look. He scowled at the younger man, wanting a damn answer and not the silence and fidgeting Sam was giving him.

Before Sam could answer, though, the nurse came in, surprising them both. Bobby had been ready to wait for quite a while still. He, and didn’t it just tickle the scrap salesman pink that the nurse was not only a guy but also probably fifteen years younger than him, took Bobby’s vitals quickly, working efficiently and with few words. He seemed downright chill, in the hunter’s opinion; all business and none of the warm bedside manner that should be there. Then again, he’d heard horror stories about nurses.

Bobby wondered if he was always like that or if it was just with troublesome patients. The receptionist had no doubt warned the nurse, or someone he’d scowled at on the way in. Hell, it could have been both. Not that the old hunter cared. No chatter meant this all went faster.

“Alright, Mr. Singer, the doctor will be in soon,” the nurse, Mark his name badge read, told him. “I’ll be back to take blood shortly.” He handed over a specimen jar. “We need a urine sample.”

He blinked at the nurse. “I can’t piss on command, boy.”

“Bobby,” Sam admonished, giving the nurse an apologetic smile, as if to say ‘I’m sorry he’s a grumpy old bastard, please ignore him.’

“Please try.” The nurse actually smiled at Sam. Proved he was being cool to Bobby on purpose, in the hunter’s mind.

Bobby grunted. “Yeah, fine,” he told him. The nurse left after that, and they didn’t see anyone for another half hour. By then, he did have to pee, so he was shown to a bathroom to do so. Mark met him as he was coming out, walking back to the exam room with him to take his blood, far more than Bobby liked.

As a hunter, giving up any worried him but four vials made him bulk. Sam had to make up a lie on the spot, and wasn’t it sad he was so good at it, before reassuring Bobby so the nurse could do his job. Mark had given them a strange look, no doubt thinking the excuses flimsy. The use of a small needle and telling Bobby he could look away made it seem the nurse thought he was squeamish. Like he had issue with blood, no matter what color it was.

Once it was over and the nurse was gone, Bobby sighed. He was tired, getting hungry, and he was more than a little agitated. “How much longer will this take?” He asked Sam, more wary than annoyed at that point.

“Hopefully not too long. I can go ask about the doctor, get you some juice.” Sam and his damn juice, Bobby though, but it at least would put something in his stomach that didn’t send him to the closest container to regurgitate. Bobby was sick of puking. So, he gave Sam a nod.

The younger man wasn’t gone long, coming back with juice, it looked like apple instead of the usual orange, and some cookies. “Mark said it’ll be another twenty minutes.”

“Why the hell didn’t we just reschedule?” He took the juice but eyed the cookies warily.

Sam put the cookies in his hand. “It was hard enough to get you here this time. I’m making Cas come next time. Now eat your cookies. They’re ginger.”

He grimaced. Ginger cookies with apple juice? He ate one anyway, too hungry to argue. They weren’t as bitter as he expected, so they weren’t too horrible, even with the juice.

Bobby took his time eating the cookies, sharing them with Sam, and drinking the juice. It wiled away the minutes waiting for the doctor, who finally came in twenty- _seven_ minutes after Sam had asked, but who was counting.

“Hello, Mr. Singer. I’m Dr. Freeman.” The doctor, who looked younger than Sam, held out his hand. Bobby hesitated before taking it. In his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if one of Crowley’s crossroads demons had a hand in any of his success. He’d have to ask, not that he could judge. Then again, trying to stop Armageddon was better than success, as reasons went for selling one’s soul. 

“And you are…?” The _child_ doctor offered his hand to Sam.

“Sam.” He readily shook the doctor’s hand, but he didn’t offer any more information.

The doctor smiled. “Alright. Are we ready to get started?” He looked between them. Bobby didn’t like that smile, but he figured it had more to do with _not_ being ready than anything else. “If you’d sit up on the table, Mr. Singer, and lay back.”

Sam stood to help Bobby, but he waved him off. “I can do it,” he told him. He moved to sit on the end of the table, eyeing the bits of it he wasn’t used to and not wanting to really think about what they might be for. Laying back, he eyed the doctor, body as tense as a board.

“Relax, Mr. Singer.” Dr. Freeman smiled at him, laying gentle hands on his cloth covered abdomen. He felt around it confidently. “None of this hurts?” He asked.

“You’d have known if it did.” Bobby rolled his eyes. Why did they have to ask stupid questions?

The doctor chuckled and got his scope to listen to Bobby’s heart and lungs. He did all the typical things a regular doctor did, asked all the typical questions. Bobby was beginning to wonder why the hell they needed to go to an obstetrician if he wasn’t going to do anything different when Dr. Freeman gave him a gentle smile. “Alright, let’s get the uncomfortable part out of the way and then I’ll do an ultrasound. There won’t be much to see, but it’ll give me an idea of how far along you are.”

Bobby frowned and narrowed his eyes at him. “What uncomfortable part?” He saw Sam wince and look away.  He glowered at them both, not liking not knowing something.

“I’ll need you to put your feet up in these.” The doctor swung the stirrups around so the older man could get his feet up into them. “I’ll help, if the movement is hard on you.” Dr. Freeman smiled.

The hunter stared at them. “What the hell…” Then it dawned on him. He flushed and glared but shifted up on the table, lifting his hips up to lose his boxers before putting his feet in the damn straps. He closed his eyes, having no desire to even look at the other two men in the room. This ranked up there as the most humiliating thing he’d ever done, he was certain.

He heard the doctor put on a glove. “This will be cold, Mr. Singer,” he was told a moment before he felt a cold, slick finger push into him. It left rather quickly, and he wasn’t sure what the doctor could have been able to tell from doing it. That was before he felt something else being inserted and his eyes flew open, looking at the doctor sharply.

“It’s okay, Bobby. He just wants to look, make sure everything’s alright.” Sam put a hand on his shoulder, and he noticed the boy was standing by his head so that he didn’t catch a glimpse of anything that would make it even harder to look Bobby in the eye after, or for Bobby to even look at him.

The hunter tried to relax, but there wasn’t much more he could do to make himself. Closing his eyes, he let the doctor do whatever it was he needed to do, hating every moment of it. What seemed like an eternity later, the doctor sat back and removed the cold metal from inside of him. “You can lower your legs, Mr. Singer.” He smiled at him.

Bobby didn’t waste time in trying to do so, but his hips resisted at first. Wincing and groaning, he moved his legs slowly. He started to sit up, but Sam held him in place. Before he could ask what the devil he was doing, the doctor was at his side. “Let’s slip your underwear back on and then start the ultrasound.”

The hunter flushed as the doctor helped him back into his boxers, it somehow more embarrassing than having him shove something up his ass. The doctor then pulled up his gown, pulled down his boxers waist band, and turned to get the machine and jelly. “This will be cold.”

“Because anything’s been _warm_?” He asked sarcastically. What was it with these sadists and things being cold?

The doctor gave him a small smile and spread the jelly on his stomach. Bobby flinched and his stomach involuntarily tensed at the chill. Dr. Freeman didn’t seem to notice. “Would you like a print of the image? As I said, there won’t be much to see, but you’ll at least have proof there’s a baby in there.” He set the wand on the jelly with a smile and turned the machine on, spreading the jelly around then beginning to look for signs of the pregnancy.

Bobby thought a moment then nodded before turning his eyes to the screen as the doctor flipped it on. All he saw was black and white, it looking like nothing but static to him. The doctor looked intently at the screen, moving the wand around. He did this for several moments before finally stopping. “Here we are.” He pointed to the screen. “Looks… just short of an inch and a half. The tail is just about gone.”

The hunter still couldn’t make anything out, not really, though he knew that a spot looked different than the rest of the screen; it was black with another static-like spot in the middle. “Tail?” He asked. Of everything, that stuck out the most. What did he mean ‘tail?’

The doctor chuckled. “Yes. Embryos have tails. Your baby is becoming a fetus. The umbilical will be attaching to the wall, and the baby will start growing rapidly. You’ll likely begin experiencing several symptoms as your organs shift around.” He hit the print button on the machine. “I’ll have information for you to take with you and read, Mr. Singer. There’s a lot I’m concerned about, due to your age, and there is plenty you need to prepare for that every omega and mother needs to prepare for.” He reached for a towel to wipe his stomach off. “Once we have the results of your tests, I’ll get you on vitamin shots that may be needed as well.” He got Bobby cleaned up and righted his clothing.

Bobby sighed but didn’t say anything. He sat up as soon as the doctor moved away; perhaps too quickly as he felt his back spasm from the movement. Sam was ready, folded clothes in hand. The young man had been right beside him through this all and he was probably being too hard on him for all his fussing.

“Are there any questions you have for me?” The doctor asked, standing up.

“No.” Bobby got off the table with a grunt, rubbing at his back. Sam handed over his pants once he turned to him. He slipped into them, the younger man helping steady him as his back gave a little resistance.

“I want to keep a close eye on your pregnancy, Mr. Singer. I’m afraid it might be hard on your body.” The doctor watched them.

“Yeah, yeah. Just make the damn appointments and I’ll be here.” Bobby pulled on his t-shirt and tucked it in before fastening up his pants.

The doctor sighed. “This has all been a bit… surreal for him,” Sam told Dr. Freeman. “I’m not sure it’s really sunk in yet.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t imagine he was expecting to become pregnant this late in life. It is rare.” The doctor smiled, turning for the door. “I’ll have the nurse bring you the information and your check out sheet. Take it easy, Mr. Singer.” He left the room.

“That could have gone worse.” Sam smiled at Bobby. “It wasn’t _that_ horrible was it?”

“All that damn waiting, and he barely did a damn thing.” Bobby pulled on the rest of his clothes before sitting on a chair to put on his boots.

Sam sighed. “They need the results of your tests before they can do much, Bobby. The next appointment will be more involved.” He stepped toward the door. “I’ll get the stuff from the nurse and meet you out front.”

Bobby grunted and tied his boots before standing and reaching for his belt. As he was fastening it, arms suddenly circled around his waist. “Really, Robert, don’t you think you should mention these sorts of things?” A familiar voice purred into his ear.

Trying to get his heart back out of his throat, Bobby glared over his shoulder at the demon. “You want to give me a heart attack?” He finished with his belt.

Crowley chuckled and let go of him, moving to stand in front of him. “Sorry, luv. I popped in and Winchester said you were here. Couldn’t not take the first chance to make sure all was well.” He looked around the room, sneering slightly. Bobby knew what the look meant, and he wondered if he was going end up whisked off to some fancy-shmancy thousand dollar a visit place sometime in his near future. “Not much, as facilities go,” the demon commented, as if reading Bobby’s mind. Crowley’s eyes landed on the picture the doctor had left with Bobby.

“That’s the baby,” Bobby said, though he was sure that Crowley had reasoned that out. The demon was picking the photo up and staring at it more intently than Bobby had seen him look at anything. “Apparently it just lost the tail.”

“Tail?” Crowley lifted a brow at him. “Is that some sort of try at demon humor, darling?”

The hunter rolled his eyes. “No. Doc said the baby was about ten weeks old and is losing its tail.”

Crowley hummed and handed the photo over to Bobby. “It all sounds hinky to me, but what do I know about these things.” He leaned in and kissed the hunter. “I’ll see you at the house.” A moment later, Bobby was alone again, wondering why Crowley had even bothered with coming when he was just going right back to the house.

Leaving the exam room, he headed out to meet up with Sam, who had a small stack of papers and pamphlets in his hand and was talking to Mark with a smile on his face. Bobby rolled his eyes at it, wondering if Sam got the nurse was flirting with him. He doubted it. “Come on, kid. Crowley’s at the house waiting, wants to hear all about what we learned.” If he had to go through all of this, the damn demon was going to have to listen to Sam go on about it. Of course, Crowley would probably grill the young hunter and actually _enjoy_ discussing it all.

Sam gave a nod. “Okay, Bobby. Don’t want him worrying about you two.” He grinned at Bobby, eyes teasing.

Bobby snorted. “I’m more worried about your brother or Cas killing him.” He headed for the door. “Now stop your flirting and move your ass.” He didn’t need to see Sam to know he was flushing like a ripe tomato. 


End file.
